1 x 10 Peace? Off! (rewrite)
by raven1307
Summary: This is my rewrite of 1 x 10, as I thought it could have gone in a different direction and led to more moments between Robin x Marian. It kicks off early on in the episode, and will pick up the original episode throughout the chapters. It centers on if Harold had been known to another person, and the consequences of their reunion. Please R&R! RobinxMarian
1. Chapter 1

The crusader looked straight ahead; his glazed eyes appeared lifeless and spoke of unimaginable horror. Robin sighed, watching the suffering his brother at arms was clearly going through. He and Much exchanged knowing looks, silently acknowledging the pain they both knew the crusader felt.

Robin still suffered from his horrific nightmares, where he was transported back to Acre and the atrocities carried out there every night. Recently, these dreams had changed. He still dreamed of the rivers of blood, the men falling at his side and the ear-piercing screams of the innocent slain before him. However now he also saw Marian standing in the middle of all the corpses, her eyes wide with terror. She would call out to him, pleading with him, only to be cut down before he could reach her. Her blood pouring all over the ground. He runs with all his might, but the bodies keep building up preventing him from reaching her. Before his eyes she is swallowed up as more bodies fall on top of her, until at last only her left hand is visible under the mountain. He cries out her name in anguish as his heart rips from his chest. He can't see any more due to the tears that keep falling, he cries her name as his knees give way beneath him and he falls…falls into the mire of cut up bodies and blood.

Robin shook his head to dispel the memory of his dreams and forced his attention back to the crusader. He noticed that although the man's eyes remained fixed straight ahead, his fingers on his right hand were continually flexing. The rest of the gang eyed the newcomer with caution; they had heard how he had tried to burn the church in Locksley and were unsure of what else he was planning to do. Little John held his staff in front of him, ready to act should the man try and attack them. Only Djaq looked at the crusader with sympathy and a physician's curiosity.

Much sidled over to Robin and asked in a hushed voice "what will we do with him master?". Robin sighed and replied "I do not know Much, he is suffering with the soldier's mind and I do not know how to reach him to overcome that".

Whilst still observing the patient, Djaq slowly walked over to Robin carrying a small bag of vials. "Robin," she whispered "I can give him something to calm his nerves and induce sleep for a little while, but I do not know how to help his mind. In Acre, we tried to study and help these men, but I left before any cure was developed. What would you like me to do for him?". Robin studied the man, unsure of what the best action would be. He looked between Much and Djaq and saw the same deep rooted sympathy and concern for the man in both their eyes.

"Djaq, do what you can to calm him, though I imagine he will not trust anything you give him. Much, my friend, I want you to assist Djaq and help this solider."

At Robin's words, Much frowned and looked at his master with a puzzled expression. Robin, guessing the question on his faithful servants lips answered "I want you to help him Much, as you helped me all those years we were at war together. If anyone can reach him, it's you!". Much smiled proudly at Robin, knowing how much Robin had, and still did, need him.

"Right Much, I'm going to need several herbs collected and I'll need you to convince him to take the tonic", and with that Djaq quickly sent Much to work. Robin smiled as he watched his loyal friend busily running around the camp, trying to complete the numerous errands Djaq had set him. He started to contemplate those times during the campaigns when he had lost all hope, his ever faithful friend had been there to bring him back from the edge of the abyss. One particular day, around two and half years after they left England, stuck out in Robin's mind…


	2. Chapter 2

_The men lay exhausted in front of the camp fire, too tired to talk or move. They had suffered a long day's march in __grueling__heat, some had proven too weak to handle such conditions and now lay in the physician's tent, languishing between life and death. Robin sat next to his faithful friend, who had been wondering what colours the trees in Sherwood would be and whether swallows would have already flown away from the approaching winter. Robin nodded absentmindedly; he had no energy to either stop his friend from talking or to join in with his ponderings. Besides thinking of home, of her, it just hurt too much._

_Looking up at the moon and the strange stars above him, Robin began to picture the beautiful English rose that he had left behind. He silently began his daily pleading with the moon above him._

_"__Please don't let her forget. I know now that I should never have left, but please do not say that I will lose her forever. She is my heart, and I cannot bear this time apart. I was wrong, so very wrong, but please just say I still have a chance to win her back. As you watch over me, you watch over her. Please, please do not let her forget my love for her". Robin continued his silent prayer to the heavens, hoping that she might just hear him in her dreams. He continued to stare at the moon, thinking of her. What would she be doing now, would she be thinking of him? What if she was looking up just at the same time as him? They would be looking at the same moon in the sky, no matter the miles between them, they would still share this link. His heart ripped in chest, and the longing for her became unbearable. He looked down at the sand at his feet and began to play with a small stick on the ground._

_"__I should have told her before I left" he thought bitterly, as he entwined the stick between his fingers._

_"__How arrogant to think that I would definitely return to tell her the truth?! I was scared to admit it, even to myself. What if I never get the chance to tell her…to tell her how I feel? That I adore everything about her, that I dream of her and that I love her with all my heart and soul." Robin shook his head violently, snapping the little branch in his hand. No, he thought, no I must live through this if only to tell her that._

_He was pulled from his reverie, by the sound of men approaching. Quick with a soldier's reflex, Robin stood up and drew his sword, calling for the men to identify themselves._

_"__Calm yourself Locksley, it's only us" Lord Arryn's loud, boisterous voice rang out. He chuckled as he and his group of men settled themselves by the fire._

_"__You should've come with us Locksley," Edmonton cried out "we found ourselves a nice little tavern, with plenty of luscious ladies inside. You could've spent some of the pent up frustration you're suffering from"._

_Robin scowled at the man across from him, "you know I have no interest in those places, Edmonton. Quite frankly I'm astounded that you do."_

_Arryn laughed at the expression on his Captain's face. "Ah now, you've never tried it so how would you know? This lass you're holding out for, is she really worth it? I mean, she's never gonna know what you do out here, so what does it matter? Have a little bit of fun; call it practice for when you next see her!"_

_Robin's face drained at the mention of Marian and a blazing rage began in his heart. He would never dishonour the love they shared (though never spoken of) and he hated any suggestion that he would dare treat his beloved so atrociously._

_With a cold, hard stare, Robin turned to Arryn and spoke in a deadly whisper. "Never speak of her in that way again, and __never__ think you can question my loyalty to her."_

_Arryn, still drunk from the strong ale, merely laughed at his Captain's threat. All the men knew of Locksley's devotion to the girl he left behind. Love-sick fool, he thought and turned to another member of the company._

_"__Errol my lad, any news from our fair homeland?". At this, all the men around the fire snapped their heads up, looking for the boy. Robin's heart began to pound loudly and he started to feel anxiety in the pit of his stomach._

_Errol, a shy lad of fifteen, spoke up in a small voice. "Yes my lord, a couple of messengers from England arrived not long after sundown. They've been telling the servants stories of what has been going on, whilst waiting for their suppers". The men fidgeted nervously as the boy spoke, each holding something close to their heart that they longed to hear after._

_Lord Arryn reached across and slapped the boy across the head. "Well don't just sit there boy, tell us what they're saying!"._

_ "__Well my Lord," the boy stuttered "there's talk of bad weather all summer long, and it's expected that there will be a poor harvest. The Duke of Norfolk passed away, leaving his estate and position at court to his nephew. Lord Newbury ended the engagement with Lady Catherine, only to marry her daughter which has by all accounts left her quite broken hearted! They say that Lady Elizabeth of Darlington is now Prince John's mistress, and no one has heard from his previous lover in quite some time. Oh, and the Queen Mother has paid a visit to Court in London." The men sighed, their hopes dashed of specific news of their loved ones fared._

_"__Idiot boy," Lord Arryn barked "is there any news for those around the fire? Any news of how our estates fare, or of our families?"_

_"__Um, well my Lord, there was talk of…Nottingham"._

_At this Robin's head shot up and stared at the boy. He dared not breathe. No news of his beloved home for two years, he both craved and dreaded what this boy had to say._

_"__Well, um it concerned…it concerned" Errol's frightened eyes turned towards the Captain. "It concerned the Sheriff's daughter, the Lady Marian". Robin's heart began to beat furiously in his chest, the twisted knot in his stomach becoming tighter and unbearable._

_"__Well, Simon said that he had passed through Nottingham on his way here and had been acquainted with those who held estates there. He said that he stayed for a night and he had…" the boy's voice trailed off as his eyes grew wide._

_"__What, what did he say?" Robin whispered urgently at the boy,_

_"__My Lord, he said that he had met the most beautiful lady in all of Christendom. He's telling all the men in the tent that he's in love with her and that he still thinks of her even after all these months. He said that her name was Lady Marian and that she had danced with him". _

_At hearing her name, Robin gasped. So she was dancing, and laughing and enjoying life no doubt. Who was this unworthy man that she'd allowed the honour of standing with her? A jealous rage settled over Robin, as he thought of her being held by another._

_"__My Lord, Simon said that he had met her at her nineteenth birthday feast. He said that he had never seen a creature so lovely as her, and all he could talk about was how enchanting her smile was and how her hair shimmered in the candlelight. He sounds quite besotted."_

_The men eyed each other around the fire; each knowing the uncontrollable jealously their Captain was capable of. Much shifted nervously and spoke into the silence._

_"__Well, yes Marian was always very pretty wasn't she master? Even though she usually had mud and grass all over her gowns, where you would both traipse off into the forest together. Isn't that so, Master? Master?". _

_Much looked at Robin, dreading his reaction to this news. Robin stood up silently, his head filled with the vision of when he had danced with that beautiful girl and how time itself had stopped in that moment. He spied the serving tent, where this Simon was talking to anyone about the precious lady he had left behind. He'd soon see to it that he would talk no more of her._


	3. Chapter 3

_He marched into the tent, to the sound of raucous laughter from the men huddled in the furthest corner. He approached the group with a murderous look, seeking out this messenger who had spent time with Marian._

_"__Ah lads, if only you'd been there. Never was there such a heavenly creature as my Marian! Her figure…so slender and exciting but beneath her bodice lies the promise of a full, bounteous carriage. Her lips so full and luscious, what I wouldn't give to feel those lips kissing me passionately and then moving slowly down to…"_

_His speech was cut off as Robin slammed him against the tent pole, his hand gripping his throat and a blade pressed against Simon's chest. Robin breathed heavily, as the uncontrollable hatred surged through him on hearing Her spoken of in such a vile way._

_"__I hope you enjoyed that little reminiscing, as that shall be the last thought you ever have" Robin snarled in the messenger's face. Simon thrashed as he gasped for air, hopelessly trying to break Robin's iron grip. The men scarpered from the tent, unwilling to also feel their Captain's wrath, leaving the two men alone. _

_"__I meant no offense my Lord" Simon choked. Robin, blinded by fury, refused to lessen his hold against the man's neck._

_"__You are not worthy to lick the soles on her shoes" Robin growled. The image of Marian blazed in his mind - her hiding behind their oak tree in Sherwood, her perfect eyes twinkling as she beckoned him over to her. Her laughter so joyous __as she ran through the trees, hair glittering and bouncing off her shoulder in the dappled sunlight._

_Simon clawed at the soldier's hands, fighting to draw breath again. Robin's eyes were murderous and pure rage filled every inch of that handsome face._

_"__MASTER NO" yelled a voice from the tent opening. Robin paid no attention to it._

_ "__MASTER, please you can't" Much ran frantically over and tried to prise Robin away from the man's neck. _

_"__Please Master! The King won't thank you for harming his messenger!"_

_Suddenly at the mention of his beloved King, Robin came to his senses and released the man. Simon staggered backwards coughing, and began to violently vomit into the corner of the tent. Robin continued to stare at this pathetic figure, his heart still hammering in his chest. Simon looked up weakly, a smiled defiantly._

_ "__The rumours are true then, that you still carry a torch for her" Simon sneered at Robin. The humiliation he felt led him to forget his station and the power Robin held. _

_"__I can understand why, given I had the pleasure of her of spending a heavenly evening in her presence not 5 months past. Although I find myself unable to say that her Ladyship reciprocates your feelings my Lord, given her attentions lay elsewhere when I was in Nottingham." _

_Robin moved forward at the man's taunts, taking all of Much's strength to hold his Master back._

_ "__You know that's not true Master," Much pleaded. "Marian would never forget about you, he just wants you to think that she doesn't care anymore." _

_Robin cast frightened eyes on his loyal servant. What if she didn't miss him and had forgotten all that they once were to each other? It was his worst nightmare, and panic shot through his whole body. Simon saw his opportunity and whispered venomously. _

_"__Well my Lord, I cannot say what lies in another's heart. All I can go on is what my own eyes witnessed, and they witnessed much! She spent most of her time with a dashing young man, whose skill with the sword was matched only by his wit and charm. I believe he is not considered suitable for her, especially in the eyes of her Lord Father. However from the short time I spent with the fair maiden I feel quite sure that she will do whatever she chooses. The phrase "rank and the demands of duty be damned" comes to mind! Indeed when I left the Shire, her affections were so widely known that all talk was of her forthcoming betrothal and marriage."_

_He stood up slowly with a smug grin stretching across his face, waiting for the effects his words would have on his fearless Captain. Robin felt as though someone had punched through his chest and ripped his heart from him. He couldn't breathe or think. His world felt as though it was collapsing in around him, as though the very ground beneath his feet was falling away. It physically hurt, his worst nightmare spoken as truth. A multitude of emotions flooded him; he wanted cry, scream and rage all at once._

_Much saw the agony his Master was in, and tried his best to quell the storm he knew was quickly approaching._

_"__No Master, I don't believe it. She would never be able to marry another, it's you she always…" but Simon interrupted before Much could speak the truth that neither Robin nor Marian had been able to face._

_"__Hate to disagree with you, but why wouldn't she? A beautiful woman like her can't be expected to spend her youth alone. From what I could gather, there has been countless suitors flocking to win the hand of that English Rose. There's nothing stopping her from freeing herself of that maiden status."_

_"__That, dunderhead" Much responded "is because you don't know her. We do, and we know that she would NEVER do that"._

_"__Correction my friend" Simon sneered at the men before him "you knew her. How long has it been, 2 years since you left for the glories of war?! You do not know her now any better than I do!". _

_Simon laughed at the agony etched all over Robin's face and stalked out of the tent, his ego and pride still smarting._

_Much shifted nervously beside his Master. He waited for the rage and anger to come and grew puzzled when Robin stood still. All of a sudden Robin fell to his knees and began to weep._

_Much had never seen Robin cry, and felt helpless looking on at his Master. Robin continued to cry, the pain in his chest becoming unbearable. He just wanted it to end. _

_All the regret welled up in the pit of his stomach. All the awful things he had done in the name of his King, the atrocities carried out by his own sword and the massacres he had witnessed with his own eyes. Now, he had lost that one ray of hope that pierced his dark world and gave him the will to survive every battle. The thought of seeing Her again drove his legs forward when he could no longer stand, gave him the strength to do what was necessary to fight another day and kept his faith when he questioned the acts committed in his God's name. She was a lone candle to him shining brightly in the blackest night, and now it had been extinguished. Wave upon wave of grief and agony swept over him. _

_Robin slowly rose to his feet, his eyes looking forward but empty. His weeping ceased and he became silent again. Much watched avidly for any signs of danger, he knew the ferocious temper his Master was capable of when it came to Marian._

_If only she could see him now, Much thought desperately. Then she would know how deeply he loves her. She would know how much he thinks of her, how sorely he misses her and just how much he needs her. But they're both so stubborn!_

_"__Much, I've lost her" Robin whispered. Suddenly a burning hatred ignited in him, and he wanted to burn, destroy and rip apart everything that surrounded him. He spun round and paced out of the tent._

_Why would she choose this unknown man? Who was he and how had he won her esteem? Robin knew how astute Marian was and that she only bestowed her good opinion on those worthy of having it. Envy swarmed in his chest as he thought the messenger's words. _

_"__His skill with the sword only matched by his wit and charm, well he would be no match for me on either count!" Robin seethed at the night's sky. He began to picture Marian and those stolen moments they had had together, only now he saw her sharing them with another man. _

_Racing through the forest together, the cold winter evenings spent sat close to the fire at Knighton and dancing together at Nottingham's feasts as though there was no one else in the room. He saw all these memories flash before him, only now he pictured her doing these with another. _

_He saw her lock eyes with this faceless man when dancing, their eyes shining bright with passion for one another. Hatred coursed through him as he thought of those beautiful, sapphire eyes that had once looked at him so adoringly, now looking at this man. _

_He thought about her kiss, and his lips burned at that memory. Despair filled him as he thought about another man feeling the caress of her lips and making plans for the future with her. Another memory flashed before him of when they had been together at Locksley. _

_They were lying on the hill overlooking the village, her head resting on his shoulder looking up at the summer sky. There they had talked about their dreams and wishes, argued over the colour of decoration in the Manor's hall (she had always loved blue) and the number of children they would have. That day Robin had actually seen their children in his mind's eye, beautiful little babies with her gorgeous eyes and flowing, raven hair. _

_They had argued over who's hair would turn grey first, dreamed of the day when she would be introduced as "Countess of Locksley" and he had promised that he would always do whatever it took to make her happy. She had laughed at this and had called him a fool, for now she could demand anything and he would have to obey!_

_The pain of this memory was so intense that Robin forgot the men sleeping around him and yelled at the sky before him. _

_He moved through the camp, caring little about where he was going. He stopped when he came to a ridge, overlooking a nearby Saracen settlement. He looked down at the streets and saw the houses that couples and their families shared. Hatred and desperation filled him. He wanted to hurt those who had everything he dreamed of, and now, would never have. He loathed himself for his choice to leave. He didn't want to be here anymore. _

_He pictured the husbands and wives sleeping soundly together. Why should they have everything he wanted? He no longer cared about his principles, his values or his God. Why should he care, when the one thing that was the most important was lost? He no longer saw reason; he no longer cared what he did._

_He turned and looked back at the camp. He eyed the figure of that cowardly messenger leaning against one of the tents in the far distance. He had been the one to deliver this blow; he had spoken the words that had caused Robin so much pain. Without thinking Robin notched an arrow and drew his bow aiming at the man's head, ready to fire. For any other archer the shot would be tricky, due to the poor light and distance. But Robin knew that if let his arrow fly it would sail into the centre of its target with ease. _

_"__NO Master!" Much yelled, catching up to Robin. "You cannot hurt him!"._

_Robin ignored his faithful manservant and drew his bow back further still. Much lunged at his Master in desperation, and clung to arms to hold him still._

_"__Please, Master, she wouldn't want this. This isn't who we are."_

_"__She doesn't care anymore Much, so why should I?" Robin answered._

_"__Because I don't believe him Master. The number of times the Sheriff commanded me to chaperone you two, and you would sneak off only for me to catch you…well kissing! Anyone who knew how much effort it took to keep up with the pair of you would know that there is no way Marian could forget you Master!"_

_Robin looked at Much with wild eyes. Memories flashed in his mind of their childhood together and his heart swelled with love and hope. Then his mind turned to the stories that weasel was telling anyone who would listen._

_"__He spreads vile rumours about her Much, to all those completely unworthy to even speak her name!" Robin growled. _

_"__I know Master but…well Marian would just punch him if she was her, not that I ever thought that was proper for her to do! She wouldn't want to kill him though" Much pleaded. _

_Robin hand lowered slightly at the thought of what Marian would do. He pictured his brave sweetheart and the numerous times she had delivered punishing blows to those who offended her. He smiled at the memory of Marian standing defiantly in the middle of the May Feast having just punched Lord DeLacy for trying to pull her away to a quiet corridor, his howls filling the hall as his broken nose streamed blood everywhere. She wouldn't want to hurt anyone without reason though._

_"__What if he spoke the truth Much?" Robin whispered to Much, betraying his darkest fear to his loyal friend. Much sighed, really they were both so stubborn that neither would see how deeply they cared for each other. _

_"__My mother always said that no matter how bad things look, we must always hold onto hope as that will show us the right path to take. I miss Locksley and I hold onto the hope that I will see it again no matter how awful the food and weather gets here. I think, Master, that you must do the same with Marian. If you give up hope, then why shouldn't she?"_

_Little did Much realise the impact of his words on Robin. He looked up at the moon and bargained silently. _

_I will never lose hope and I will never give up on Her, he thought desperately at the heavens. I will strive every day to survive just so that I might get one step closer to home. Just let her keep hope too. Don't let her forget or lose hope that I will return, because that hope is all have out here._

_He nodded silently at Much and lowered his bow. Much smiled at his Master, before his eyebrows puckered in a slight frown._

_"__Do you think they will still have any food left, Master? I feel a little hungry."_

_Robin looked at his loyal friend, who would never know the extent to which he had saved Robin that night. Much had brought him back from the brink._

_"__I don't know my friend; shall we go and find out?" Robin smiled appreciatively at Much. Slowly the two friends began to descend the ridge back down to the camp. _


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi all :)**

**Sorry for not uploading sooner - it's been a mad few months! Anyway here's the new chapter, and I will be uploading new chapters soon! In particular I want this story to look at the relationship between Much/Robin and Robin/Marian and give a little more background to what happened to all of them during their separation. Thank you for all your comments and likes so far, it's been really lovely and helpful to hear people's views and suggestions.** **I hope you enjoy!**

Robin continued to stare at the ground before him, his mind lost in the memories of that day and the things he did subsequently when he believed all was lost. He closed his eyes and gulped in a lung full of air. Never would he allow someone to see his weaknesses and true feelings as he did that day, even his faithful friend. He had been broken that day, and had revealed too much. His carefree attitude was a meticulous construct built over years, designed to hide his most vulnerable feelings and wishes. Much had often tried to prise Robin's inner thoughts from him, especially when he thought his master's defences were a little low. However his attempts and concerns were consistently rebuffed and laughed away with a carefully place grin.

He had never appreciated the sacrifice Much had made until that day. Much's admission that he longed to see the Locksley hills again had struck Robin hard, and he had never forgotten his servants words. The horror and misery his ever-faithful friend had gone through in those five years hurt Robin, who felt the pain of responsibility for exposing Much to such grief. Still the guilt plagued him, and often resulted in him pushing his old friend away or belittling his worries - all to avoid acknowledging the regret hindsight brings.

Robin's attention was suddenly brought back to his gang by a large metallic clatter. His gaze snapped upwards and the sight made him gasp. The crusader was stood, dagger in hand, staring intently at Djaq. The noise had obviously been from where she had dropped the instruments in her hands, as they lay in disarray around her feet. Djaq stood with her hands up, her movements slow and gentle but her eyes wide with alarm.

At once the gang stood up together, Allan and Will both looked at the soldier with livid expressions. Much stood closest to Djaq and turned anxious eyes onto Robin, looking for instruction on what to do.

Slowly Robin stood up, his arms outstretched in front of him in a calming gesture.

"Please, let's not do anything rash" Robin addressed to everyone before him. "Soldier, this man is a physician who can help you. Stand down!"

The ease at which he slipped back into giving orders surprised Robin, and the commanding voice of a Captain seemed all too familiar. Nevertheless, the crusader's deadly eyes remained fixed on Djaq, their intent clear for anyone to see.

"Robin, do something! He might hurt Djaq!" Will called at his leader. John looked round at Will and nodded, taking a pace towards the crusader.

"John, no!" Robin ordered. He was desperately thinking of a way to calm his brother at arms; however he did not know what would reach through to him.

"Listen, that man is not just a Saracen, he is a friend. He can be your friend too, if you would let him help you!" Robin tried to reason. The crusader appeared deaf to everything said, and took a menacing step towards where Djaq stood.

"Master!" Much cried in panic.

Robin began to move forward with a cat-like grace, slowly and purposefully he edged towards the soldier.

"Please, just tell me your name. We only want to help you" Robin stated in a low voice. Suddenly the crusader's head whipped around, hearing a twig snap close to him. He saw the men had closed in on him and without hesitation he lunged forward, grabbed the Saracen and held him in front of his body as a shield. He pressed the knife into the enemy's neck, and felt him stiffen at the touch of the blade.

His mind raced with images of slaughter and the screams of the dead. He saw nothing except the flaming sands of the desert and the rivers of blood that had stained the dunes. In his mind's eye he saw all those he had lost and who now lied buried in the foreign land, forgotten. In his grip he held another Saracen, one who would kill him if he did not do it first. His heart hammered in his chest as though it were trying to break free and his skin became hot to the touch. He felt trapped within his own mind, whichever way he turned he saw the same vile images and his ears rang with the clash of metal. The blade in his hand felt right, like an extension of his own being with its own mind. His heart pleaded for an end to the bloodshed, but his arm flexed with the autonomous desire to plunge it into his enemy.

Excruciating pain flooded his head, the memories kept flooding in. He was losing control, and still the screaming carried on gaining in pitch and volume.

They were all the same. It was his duty.

"NO!" cried the gang in unison. Robin was desperately trying to think of a way to calm the situation down, but he didn't know this man or what he could do that would make him see sense. He could tell from the man's eyes that his mind was thousands miles away and his current behaviour was merely a result of that. However his gang could not understand. John had had enough of trying to placate this man, soldier or not he was threatening one of the lads. He raised his staff, and began to walk towards them.

At seeing the giant coming towards him with weapon in hand, the soldier grabbed the Saracen even closer to him and pressed the dagger deeper, upon which a small trickle of blood ran down Djaq's neck.

"John NO!" Robin ordered, seeing the danger clearly. He looked around him, but nothing came to mind. He had no idea what he could do to diffuse the situation. Suddenly, John cried and went to rush the crusader, but before he could reach him someone entered the camp taking everyone by surprise.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi all :) Thanks for all your lovely comments, they've been a real help in writing the new chapters and I always love to hear thoughts! Here's the new chapter, hope you enjoy!**

Marian looked at the scene before her. The gang stood together with weapons drawn, the Saracen was being held by man she had not seen before and Robin stood in the middle trying to break both sides apart. She had been riding through the forest (definitely not hoping to see Him!) when she had heard shouting and curiosity had made her follow the voices. Her eyes scanned every face in the little camp, and rested on Robin's. She moved her head to the side with her eyebrows furrowed, questioning what was going on. She noticed how Robin seemed to be protecting the man despite the imminent threat to one of his gang.

_He must be crusader for Robin to be so loyal_, she surmised. Carefully she began to make her way down the little slope to the camp. No one spoke a word, all equally shocked at this latest arrival.

As she moved closer she began to take in her surroundings. Furs and small bags of belongings were placed evenly around a small fire, one for each of the gang. A collection of metal pots and pans were piled unceremoniously on the edge of the clearing next to a small barrel of water. Two pheasants were hung over a low branch in preparation for tonight's supper and a ragged cloth bag stood underneath these, half-full with seasonal vegetables. She could smell the smoke of the fire as well as the earthy scent of the forest that often clung to the outlaw's clothes. Though sparse and humble, Marian felt the homely warmth of this camp and silently longed to feel the same comforting welcome at Knighton.

Brittle twigs and dry leaves crunched beneath her feet as her footsteps quickened towards the bottom of the uneven slope and the edge of where the furs sat. Next to one bunk lay a disorderly collection of wooden shafts and goose feathers, with a pile of perfectly crafted arrows positioned just an arm's reach away. As Marian advanced further she studied the precision of the fletching and realised that this could only have been achieved by one man, so this must also be his "bed". On realising this Marian's heart fluttered slightly and the hint of a rosy blush became visible on her ivory cheeks. Quickly she tried to banish the thought from her mind.

Her presence had a calming influence on everyone though she could still see stress and worry etched all over Robin's handsome features. Slowly she turned her attention to the cause of the commotion. Her eyes studied the dirty face of the soldier, the ragged facial hair that covered it and the matted mess of lank hair.

She pitied him instantly, only wishing to help the poor man. So many had returned with broken souls and wounded minds, shadows of the men they once were. As Sheriff, her father had offered many a bed for a night on their tiresome journey home and often she had been awoken by nightmarish screams echoing down the stone passageways. In the morning the men had appeared disheveled and embarrassed, begging forgiveness with their pain barely concealed. Her heart had torn at the sight of them, knowing that there was no treatment for such an ailment.

She stared at the muscular arm that was held across Djaq's neck and the dagger that was still pressed there. Something about that dagger stirred Marian's mind, a pang of recognition shot through her, though she could not understand why. Her eyebrows creased together as her gaze moved back up to study the man's face.

_Kind eyes_, she thought. Again a shot of recognition coursed through her. She peered closer, the way that the mouth turned slightly upwards even though he was not smiling seemed so familiar. The way those eyes looked at her, she knew them. She frowned in concentration, her mind racing.

_It couldn't be him, could it_? _No, they said he had perished_.

She gasped and her eyes grew wide as she searched that familiar face the dirt had hidden so well. Tears began to well up in her eyes as she recalled the sorrow she had felt on hearing of his death.

"Harold?" she whispered into the silence.

The man blinked as though he had been suddenly woken from a deep sleep. He stared warily at the beautiful Lady before him, who had spoken his name so clearly.

"Harold, it's me" Marian stated simply. She waited patiently, desperately searching his face for the signs of recognition.

Slowly the soldier began relax his grip, his eyes turning miserable and sorrowful. He lowered his arm and allowed Djaq to rush away to the safety of the gang. The crusader remained still, tears threatening to spill. Slowly he placed his dagger on the ground, his eyes never leaving her breath-taking face.

"Marian?" he replied warily. "How do I know it's you?"

"Because I am here" she answered. She could see that he still he did not believe her, so carefully she began walk towards him.

"We are in Sherwood. Do you remember how we use to run and hide in these trees? You would tell me that there was no other place you would rather be." Marian gestured to the forest surrounding them.

"This is heaven and are an angel here to guide me, aren't you? Or perhaps you are a demon leading me to hell!" the man answered desperately, not believing the truth his eyes were showing him.

"Listen, Harold" Marian pleaded. "Listen to the birds and the wind in the trees. Listen to fire crackling and twigs snapping beneath my feet. I swear to you that this is real. You are home."

The crusader looked wildly around in disbelief. All those torturous years in hell he had dreamed of this place, how could it be real?

He stared at the trees and he knew them. The earthy smell of the forest called to him. The light, dappled and golden, shone through the trees in beams of glorious sunlight. Slowly he began to trust his senses. He reached out and his hand touched the rough bark of a nearby tree. Echoes of childhood laughter rang in his ears, as he closed his eyes to the feel of the forest. New sounds started to drown out the screaming in his head. He could hear the soft cooing of nearby woodpigeons, the distant tapping of a persistent woodpecker and the rustling of spring leaves above him. His hand scraped down the rough bark, he felt the ragged edges scuff his palm and its sticky sap ooze over his fingers. He inhaled deeply and opened his eyes.

"Marian?" he whispered in a small voice.

"Yes," she replied smiling and tears in her eyes.

He broke into a tortured smile, his eyes no longer distant but warm and sorrowful. Suddenly the desire to know she was real overcame him, and he closed the gap between them. Without thinking he swept her into his arms and twirled her round with sheer relief running through his veins. She laughed nervously, startled but happy by the sudden reaction of her long-lost friend.

He gently placed her on the floor and looked down at his feet, abashed at his forwardness and ashamed of what she had just witnessed. Only moments ago he had threatened to take the life of another innocent, yet now it felt like a half-forgotten nightmare. Confusion and despair bubbled away in his stomach, he had come so close to getting blood soaked hands again. His distress intensified from the realisation that he had lost control again, and his breath quickened at the thought of her seeing the truly worse side of his soul. He felt the danger again and shut his eyes, desperately trying to hold onto reality.

Marian recognised the warning signs, she had once witnessed a returning soldier go from laughing merrily at the feasting table to lying in a fetal position on the flagstone floor, screaming and crying in front of a speechless crowd in no more than a heartbeat. She delicately placed her hand on the side of his cheek, not knowing if it would be enough to regain his attention. She felt him stiffen at her touch, and knew that he was still there.

"Just breathe Harold, we're all here for you" she said soothingly, although her insides churned with anguish from helplessness against the approaching storm. Unsure of how to assist her old friend, Marian looked around at the gang for support. One face stood out as she saw her own compassion mirrored in his own worried expression. She knew that she could never fully empathise with the horrors that tormented Harold, but another could. Both men needed to air unspoken terrors and both needed a fellow brother in arms with whom they could share and understand their agony.

"Much," she whispered "can you take Harold here for a walk. I think he would like to see the forest again." Harold's eyes snapped upwards, full of fear at the thought of separation.

"I'll be right here for when you return" Marian reassured him. She gave a small, comforting smile and an encouraging nod to both men.

"I can show you where we collect the water from? We mainly use it for our stews, broths and pottage but it can be quite nice to wash the day's dirt off your face, although it is rather cold and that can be somewhat unpleasant..." Much ventured, baffled as to why Marian thought he should be the one to help but wanting to assist in any way he could.

The rest of the gang shifted uncomfortably not knowing what to do, but nevertheless pleased at the turn of events. Although slightly shaken, Djaq stood smiling between Allan and Will, hoping that for now the soldier's mind was settled. Only one looked on in a jealous rage.

Livid with what he had seen, Robin stalked away from the relieved party.


	6. Chapter 6

Harold gave Marian one last look of confused wonder before turning to follow a chattering Much to the nearby stream. The gang looked after him with narrowed eyes, nervous at thought of their beloved friend alone with the unpredictable crusader. Djaq stared intently at Marian, impressed by the calm sensibleness displayed by the Englishwoman. She hadn't had much to do with the Lady since becoming a member of the gang, but she had heard countless stories from Much and often heard Robin crying out for her when in the throws of his nightmares. Her curiosity flared and she decided to observe Marian closely, hoping to learn more about the young woman's character, feeling that there was more to her than met the eye.

Though out of sight, Much's constant musings were still audible to the vast relief of his comrades. Never did they think they would be glad to hear Much's chatter! As they became satisfied that there was no real danger at present, the gang began to settle down around the fire for their evening chores. Marian, standing on the edge of the camp, started to fidget with the hem of her gown, unsure of how welcome her presence would be.

The gentle hum of companionable talk transformed the camp before her eyes. The gang had taken seats around the fire, each taking up one of the fur beds. The afternoon sun now cast a deep golden light on the forest, and with the fire, appeared to drench the small clearing in a warm glow. She felt her heart ache at the homely surroundings before her, longing for such comfortable and contented feelings to be present at Knighton. For so long her home had felt like a gilded cage, beautiful on the outside but a prison of fear to those on the inside. She couldn't even recall the last time she had sat by the fire talking and joking with father about everyday trifles. She had the manor, dresses and jewels befitting a noblewoman, yet looking at this cosy camp of free men she felt as though they were infinitely richer.

Will had begun whittling a new set of spoons for Much and the repetitive tap of the knife felt strangely relaxing. Djaq was busy looking through various vials and herb boxes, making note of those that would soon need replenishing. Little John and Allan were facing the fire, reminiscing over happy times spent with their old friends and family. As she watched over them all, another pang shot through Marian's body. _They are family to each other_, she realised, wishing that she too could have such kinship. One bed lay noticeably vacant, though she had not seen when its occupant had left the small group. She peered around the surrounding treeline, nothing moved to suggest he was still in the vicinity. Curiosity and aching legs made her decision for her as she boldly moved to sit down on his "bed".

The furs felt soft and thick beneath her and carried the same earthy smell of the forest that often clung to his clothes. Before she knew what was happening she began to imagine how warm they would be at night, especially with their owner lying closely by her side and holding her tightly to his body. Blushing deeply she banished the image from her mind, angry that they had crept into her thoughts again.

Needing a distraction from her imaginings, Marian focused her eyes on the loose goose feathers that littered the ground by her feet. She gingerly picked up a half-worked feather that lay closest to her and stroked her index finger down it's grey spine. The workmanship was perfect, angles so precise that she thought no other in the land could better it. But there was more than just accuracy in his work, she could feel the love he had for shooting radiating from this one small token. The patience it took to get each and every one as perfect as the last took her breath away and the tenderness it must have taken for those calloused hands to not ruin the delicate vanes made her heart swell in admiration. Suddenly her mind was filled with images of his gentle hands stroking her face, then slowly moving down to her waist, pulling her ever closer…

Marian shook her head violently to dispel her wandering thoughts. She would not be like those foolish girls who threw themselves Robin everytime he flashed them a winning smile or a cheeky wink. Yet lately she had found herself smiling back, even laughing, when he tried his flatteries on her. She could feel herself thawing, her protective barriers crumbling against her longing for this man, but she would not give in. Never would she let herself be vulnerable to such pain again. Her heart physically ached in her chest, desperate to change her decision and begging her stubbornness to give in. In an effort to appease it, Marian tucked the feather carefully into the bodice of her riding gown so that the little token sat directly against her heart.

Only Djaq had noticed Marian taking a seat on Robin's bunk. She had seen how Marian's eyes had turned soft when holding the feather, and had smiled when she saw the Lady stow it surreptitiously in her gown. _Yes, there is more to her than what she would have everyone believe_ Djaq decided. A gentle soul lurked behind her hard exterior and it was clear that she held a deep love for their leader. Obvious to her, but invisible to the men around them and also (she suspected) to the Lady herself!

Djaq continued to watch as Marian unconsciously lifted her hand to cover the hidden token. Her eyes seem to glaze over slightly, her mind racing somewhere far away from the small campfire. Djaq suppressed a wise chuckle, wondering how long both their leader and the Lady could continue denying their mutual feelings for each other. Her eyes flitted to the man carving with such beautiful skill and wondered if she was merely doing the same thing. Her musings were interrupted by a small, sad sigh from Robin's bed which was barely audible over Allan's banter. Djaq peered back over at Marian and felt a desire to help the woman before her.

"...and then I said to him "I'm not bein' funny but it's rude to shout at a guest" and then ran like hell outta Mary's window!".

John's raucous laughter at Allan's latest tale pulled both women out of their respective reveries and brought their thoughts straight back into the camp. Marian's cheeks turned scarlet at hearing Allan's words, and felt as though she had been caught thinking of very unladylike things. She cursed inwardly at her inability to cast that man from her mind, and decided to focus on the camp as a way of forgetting _him_.

She looked over her left shoulder and spotted Robin's jacket, carelessly flung onto the ground where he'd discarded it earlier in the day. Annoyed at how little he looked after himself Marian picked up the jacket and folded it into a neat bundle. She lay it carefully at the end of the furs, making sure it no longer touched the dirt and delicately smoothed the fabric by running her hands over it. It grieved her how few possessions the gang had. She supposed having to move every few days meant they needed to travel light, and yet she grew angry at the conditions these men had to survive in. As she rested her hand on Robin's jacket she swore that she would bring more provisions for them, feeling that they were another worthy few to add to the Nightwatchman's list.

"Are you cold, your Ladyship?" a quiet voice politely asked from across the fire. Marian looked up to see Will watching her, worried about whether she was suitably comfortable in their makeshift camp.

"No not at all, thank you" Marian answered with a kind smile. She remembered Will from when they were small children, playing with Robin in the fields and trees around Locksley. Even as a young boy Will had been thoughtful and respectful towards her, and it seemed that he had not changed much since then. She recalled the day she had heard of his mother's passing and the all-consuming guilt she had felt by failing to assist them more. Once she had learnt how Jayne Scarlett had sacrificed herself to feed her beloved sons, Marian had doubled her efforts so that no other child could lose their parents in such a way. It was exhausting but worth every risk she took, if only others could see that!

"How is your father and brother?" Marian asked.

"They are well, your Ladyship" Will replied "living in Scarborough with an uncle of mine." The carpenter smiled warmly at Marian and began whittling again, honoured that she had remembered details of his family.

"I never did say thank you, your Ladyship" Will suddenly stated, looking up from his work. Marian tilted her head to the side, unsure of what he was referring to.

"The Nightwatchman I mean," he spoke hurriedly "you helped so many of us for so long, and I never said thank you. You gave us all hope my Lady."

Marian felt a rush of affection for the young carpenter. His touching words brought tears to her eyes, it was the first time she had been truly thanked for her efforts. Unwilling to show her emotions, Marian smiled broadly and nodded her thanks to Will.

"Do you remember we met before, a few years back?" Marian asked Allan, who now looked at her with a wickedly amused expression on his face.

"Yeah, not bein' funny but you have a hell of a right hook on ya!" Allan replied jovially. The gang looked between the two, intrigued as to how they met.

"I came across you in the forest trying to talk yourself out of being arrested" Marian responded. "You claimed that your wife was in labour and needed more food to sustain her. I stepped in to stop the guard from taking you to Nottingham and you repaid me by trying to steal my purse!"

"Yeah, but you put a stop to that quick 'nough and gave me a black eye for me trouble!" Allan quipped. The gang dissolved into laughter at the image of a Lady getting the upperhand over Allan a Dale, and Marian found it so infectious that she too started her giggling at the memory. Her heart felt lighter than it had in years as she started to feel happy for the first time in a very long while. The laughter gradually died down into companionable silence, as each member looked into the fire thinking of their own past lives.

"I was truly sorry about your brother" Marian said softly into the silence. Allan sighed and smiled sadly into the flames.

"Ah, he was always the foolish one. Right since we were little 'uns" he said fondly.

"He was good man, they all were. He made mistakes, but then who doesn't..." Marian mused, her voice trailing off. Allan smiled appreciatively at Marian, thankful for the kind words. It wasn't often he heard his brother spoken of in such a thoughtful way. They all remained silent around the fire, thinking of those souls who had been lost to the Sheriff's brutal regime.

Marian's thoughts soon turned to Harold, and the haunted expression that had lingered on his tired features. She had seen that look worn so many times by the returning soldiers, but witnessing it on the face of her old friend had shaken her deeply. Her ears still picked out Much's voice, pleased that at least there would be one person who could to talk to Harold and understand what he was going through. It was strange, but since their return she hadn't really viewed Much and Robin as soldier's. Thinking over the past few months she recognised that her anger had overwhelmed her so that all she saw was the same arrogant man that had left her in the first place. Guilt flooded her body as she realised that they too had been through the same ordeal as Harold, though somehow they didn't show it. She stared into the fire, bile rising in her throat causing her eyes to water slightly.

It had been awhile since she had sat down on bunk, yet he still had not returned to the camp. Biting her bottom lip Marian stared into the darkening tree line, trying to decipher where Robin had gone. Behind her right shoulder she noticed several muddy footprints and a few broken branches, indicating someone had crashed through there recently. Her breath quickened in nervous indecision, would he want to talk to her? She closed her eyes in thought, and recalled a summer's day when she had been a young girl of ten.

_She had found Robin on the edge of their meadow, slashing his sword violently against the bark of an old oak tree. Tears had pooled in her innocent eyes at the sight of her beloved friend suffering from so much pain. She began to run over to him, but in her haste she tripped over an unseen root sending her flying down onto the ground. Her hands stung viciously, grazed from the impact and she was sure that her new blue gown had been torn. She felt two hands gently enclose her wrists, lifting her onto her feet. He tenderly assessed her "wounds" and anxiously asked if she was hurt anywhere else. _

"_No, but I think my dress is torn. Elsie won't be pleased, it's the third one this month" she answered quietly, her sapphire eyes wide with shock. He nodded, and stroked her injured hands comfortingly. Marian stared at his miserable face, taut with grief and pent up anger. Without thinking she raised her hand from his grip, and gently brushed the hair from his face. The action soothed his stricken state, and he felt himself relax under her touch. His eyes were red and sore from the tears he had shed, but staring into Marian's loving eyes he swore that she would never see him break down, he would be strong for her. Her fingers played with a small curl of hair at the side of his face, her mind searching for the words to help him. _

"_I will always be here for you" she whispered earnestly. In reply, Robin gave her his first genuine smile in weeks. _

Her decision made, Marian pushed herself onto her feet and hastened to find him.


	7. Chapter 7

Robin plunged into the forest in a blind rage. His whole body shook with jealous anger at what he had just witnessed. He seethed inside as he pictured the warm smile she had given that man. Her beautiful face had been alight with joy at _his _return. She had allowed _him_ to hold her.

As bitter tears formed in his eyes, he thrusted a dagger into a nearby tree to vent his chagrin and to stem their flow. He took in deep lungfuls of air, hoping to regain control over his pounding heart. Months of frustration burst forth, uncontrollable envy coursed through his veins and a little voice of despair started whispering in his ear.

_Would she ever forgive him?_

He had known she would be justifiably furious, even resentful, towards him on his return but he had naively assumed that this would have soon subsided. He knew better than anyone how stubborn she could be and loved her fiery nature because of it. Other girls simpered and submitted to the wills of others, but not his Marian. She was bold, brave and defiantly independent, something which he had always revered. But he had never imagined that the forcefulness of her will would be so impenetrable against him. She had rebuffed his charms, scorned his advances and continually held him away at arm's length. At times he glimpsed momentary breaks in her defenses, flooding his heart with hope that they could one day renew what they had lost. He would never give up, he needed her too much to do that.

He had been wrong, so wrong, to leave. The torments he suffered at night were enough to testify how terrible his decision had been. He had been a young man of 19, eager to impress others with his skill and to prove to all (especially her) that he was no longer the child who had inherited his father's title. The honour of battle had seduced his young mind and blinded him to all other options except fulfilling his duty for King and Almighty God. He knew he could never make up for the mistakes of the past, but he vehemently believed that they were meant to be together and that behind her facade of indifference such tender feelings still had to be there.

The only respite to be had in the Holy Land was at night, when the soldiers dreams transported them home and into the loving embrace of their family. For a few blissful hours they forgot the turmoil that engulfed them and the atrocities their hands had carried out. Each man held their desires close to their hearts not daring to speak them aloud for fear of cursing them, but in the darkness their sleeping whispers betrayed what it was they longed for.

For Robin only the dreams at night made living through each day worth it, for in them he escaped to the life that could have been. Marian smiling in the doorway of Locksley's manor, a babe in her arms and her stomach slightly swelled from carrying another, beckoning him to come inside and join them. Each night his mind took him further into their future. One time he and Marian were lazing together in front of roaring fire with their youngest babe sleeping soundly in his wife's arms. The Michaelmas decorations flooded the manor with colour and their other three little children were running around excitedly looking for the next adventure. He had always pictured them having two beautiful girls and two mischievous sons, all of them inheriting Marian's gorgeous hair and eyes. As the nights passed his dreams accelerated through time. He would see the children slightly older playing devilish tricks on Much, his wife standing by his side silently laughing at their escapades whilst Much tore out his hair trying to control them. His heart would fill with pride as he taught them all how to shoot and handle a sword, Marian standing at the edge of the practice yard with a smug smile lighting her face each time the girls bested the boys. The entire family and faithful Much would accompany him to Nottingham for the Council of Nobles, where Marian's father would preside. After the meeting the old man eyes would brim with tears at seeing his treasured daughter flourish as a mother and would delight in doting upon his precious grandchildren. It had been so good to dream…

When she had first spoken Harold's name Robin had smiled to himself, believing to know the whirlwind of fury that she was about release upon the crusader. He recalled how she had emerged from behind the door at Knighton, bow drawn and aimed directly at his chest. The very embodiment of Athena. He remembered with fondness the irritable contempt she had initially shown for his "drivel" and how he quickly learnt flippant charms would not win her regard back.

However he had felt a swift, incapacitating blow when she had smiled at the soldier and had even let him twirl her around as though they were sweethearts. His stomach felt as though it had been twisted and wrenched apart at how pleased she had been to see him again. As he had watched incredulously from the sidelines, he observed the "welcome home" he had dreamt of for so many years, being bestowed upon another. The pulsating rage began building in his chest again, ripping his body apart and stabbing him violently beneath his ribs. It could only be eased by a short, anguished shout that reverberated through the trees around him. The green mist descended and fully consumed his vision. He delivered one final, punishing blow to the tree before turning to stalk deeper into the forest.


	8. Chapter 8

Harold sat by the stream in bewildered silence, his senses overwhelmed by the forest. Until now all he had been able to picture were the bloody scenes of the battlefield and as he looked around his mind struggled to cope with the tranquility of Sherwood. He sat on a muddy slope, his back resting against the rough bark of an oak tree. A small stream ran past his feet, down into some hidden part of the forest. Rays from the evening sun streaked through the trees and hit the rushing water, sending dazzling bursts of light dancing across it's surface. His body felt tense, unable to relax at the surrounding peacefulness. In the few minutes since he had sat down he had already calculated the likely directions for attacks and had decided upon where the the best defensive positions would be. His eyes strained to see some threat advancing from the murky darkness of the forest, but nothing came.

On the other side of the stream, Much sat happily with a bag of vegetables and cooking pots by his side. He had felt a little perplexed when Marian had suggested that he speak with Harold, no one had ever asked him to talk before! It hadn't taken long though before Much had found something to start discussing and without the usual instruction to "shutup" he was having a merry time chatting about everything that popped into his head.

"...I hate this stream, it's always so cold!" Much exclaimed to his uninterested audience. Harold barely heard the words, his mind whirring at the surroundings that felt both alien and familiar at the same time.

"...and that was one of the biggest things I hated about the desert, well that and the heat. I often said to my master that it was like marching through an oven. I think I would of liked this cold stream if it had been with us in the desert" Much pondered out loud as he began to fill the first pot with water.

"I suppose this stream isn't as bad as the river, that's always freezing and we have to wash in that! I sometimes think about collecting some rose petals to put in the river, like I had in my bath at Locksley, but I think they would just wash away. I guess I could try and find a pond to bathe in, then they wouldn't wash away...but then the water might not be very clean and that would be revolting" Much continued, staring at the ground and longing for a steaming hot bath.

"I don't suppose you've had a bath for awhile now" Much ventured nervously, hoping to get a response from the man opposite him. He looked up to see Harold staring intently at his face, his thoughts locked away behind his anguished eyes. Much had seen countless men affected by the soldier's sickness, even the boldest crusaders had been struck down by it. At times he had feared his master would succumb to its evil, especially when Robin had developed that ferocious fever. Much had never forgotten his master's agonised screams from when he had lain an inch from death and even now he prayed to never hear them again. Much fell into silence, unsure of what to say. He studied Harold's stiff posture and realised the man's torment still raged inside. His eyes softened in silent acknowledgement of the pain he knew all too well. It could have so easily been him.

Feeling unnerved at the man's stillness, Much persevered on. He reached over to the small bag of vegetables and began preparing them for the night's meal.

"I learnt this recipe when we camped in Sicily. My master never really cared much for it, but then he didn't mind eating that foul gruel they made in Acre! What I wouldn't have given for a piece of tender meat or beautifully baked bread back then...or now for that matter!" he stated, his eyebrows creased in thought.

"Now then, you cut up the meat and vegetables like so," and began to hack them into fairly large cubed pieces. He took out the sticks he had prepared earlier in the day, sharpened on one end to make skewing the food easier, and laid them at the edge of the stream.

"You take your meat and the vegetables and you put them onto the stick like this" Much instructed, his tongue sticking out in the corner of mouth as he concentrated on the important task. Soon he had completed the first skewer with an array of seasonal vegetables and venison that looked very appetising to both men.

"Like I said, I learnt this is Sicily when we stayed the winter with King Richard. They called it Sis..."

"Kebab" Harold answered, looking intently at the food. Slightly dumbfounded, Much nodded in agreement.

"Yes that's right," Much answered warily.

"You fought in the Holy Land?" Harold croaked, wanting the silence to be filled again.

"Y...Yes" Much stammered, unused to discussing the subject. He took in a deep breath and held his head high.

"My master was the Captain of the King's guard. He was honoured with the post after his bravery on the battlefield. We would often dine with King Richard as he always said he saw Robin more like a brother than a subject" Much finished, his chest swelled with pride.

Occasionally member's of the gang would ask him about their travels to the Holy Land (when Robin was out of earshot) but it felt so good to finally talk about it openly. Harold nodded at Much's words, he now understood why Robin had shouted commands with such ease and authority.

"How many years did you waste in that hell?" Harold pushed, wanting to know more. Much bulked at the bluntness of the man's question. Most people walked on eggshells when they spoke of the crusades, afraid of upsetting those who had returned.

"We were there for five years before my master took a fever and was ordered to return home to recover" Much recited. "We….we protected our King and did our duty and that could never be seen as wasted time".

Harold answered with a harsh laugh, believing the man to be blinded to the truth.

"Just what did you achieve in that time? What was the point of it all?" Harold questioned, wanting his fellow soldier to see his folly.

"It...it was our duty" Much replied, growing increasingly nervous at his interrogation. Harold responded with a piercing stare that could wither the hardiest weed.

"My master needed me, he could never have looked after himself in the Holy Land which is why I had to go with him". Harold grunted dismissively, he'd win no debates here.

"Robin never speaks of it" Much muttered into the evening air. "But then Marian says he's never been able to speak the truth to people, so maybe it's not just me he won't talk too?"

"Marian?!" Harold queried in surprise. Happy memories of a seventeen year-old girl flashed through his thoughts.

"Your master was the one who left her?" Harold quizzed in astonishment. Much shifted awkwardly, uneasy with the question.

"They were betrothed before my Master went to defend our King" Much answered, suddenly curious to know what tied this crusader and his childhood friend together. Harold nodded absentmindedly, his mind racing back four years to a warm, carefree summer...


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi all :) Sorry about the lack of uploads recently, but definitely back on track now! Thank you for all comments and follows, hope you enjoy! :) **_-_

_"Honestly Harold, why don't you just kneel on the ground and surrender?! Or better yet why don't you just give me your weapon so that I can hit you with it!" Marian cried in frustration, whilst swinging her wooden staff before her. Harold dodged her move and chuckled at her annoyance._

_"You asked me to train you, so I am" he answered, delivering parrying blows. "But you need to master your footwork before I stop going easy on you" he panted, twirling around behind her back and tripping up one of her legs. In an instant she was down on the trampled grass and he held the end of his practice staff to her throat._

"_And you're dead" he finished with a smug grin. Marian's face burned with chagrin, she hated losing, especially to a man. _

"You cheated" she answered, staring daggers into her trainer's eyes.

"_No, I won. You need to be prepared for anything and you need to..." he said offering his hand "master your footwork". _

_As he helped Marian up she shoved him away slightly, angered by his reproof. _

"_I am working on it, we've been at it for weeks and you still won't let me practice with a real sword" Marian huffed. Patience had never been her greatest virtue (she had had to sit through __many_ _lectures on the subject). _

"_That's because I don't want you to hurt yourself...or me for that matter" Harold replied calmly. She had picked up the techniques remarkably quickly and he felt sure that she could soon rival any man in combat. However he still could not forget that she was a Lady of nobility and often he would hesitate when training with her, unwilling to cause her any real harm. _

"_Let's go again" Marian panted, brushing her hair off her sweaty brow with a bandaged hand. Her ankle still twinged from the staff's blow, but her determined eyes challenged him to start another bout. _

"_Before we do, let's focus on what your feet should be doing" Harold reseasoned. "You lack the brute strength of a male counterpart, therefore you will have to make up for it with speed and agility...which you can only do with correct footwork" he said, tapping the side of her leg lightly. _

_Marian gritted her teeth in frustration, it was taking too long. They'd been practising every day for the past three weeks and it still felt as though she hadn't gotten anywhere. The small clearing they practised in had now lost most of its summer grass, having been continually stamped on by the trainers. To the side lay a small bundle of clothes (consisting of riding gloves, a dress and cloak) which allowed Marian to leave and return to Knighton without raising too much suspicion. Her father had been surprisingly easy about her learning to fight, but little did she realise he allowed it in the hope it would take her mind away from Locksley. _

_They continued to practice for several more hours, by which time Marian had grasped how to place her feet properly. Both of them stood in the middle of clearing, with beads of sweat running down their faces and panting heavily. Harold looked on with pride and smiled at his student's progress. _

"_Great, tomorrow we can really start work on your parrying" he informed her. She nodded grimly, she didn't want the lesson to end when she was just getting the hang of it. _

"_Can we have one more practice?" she pleaded, already knowing the answer. _

"_No I'm sorry Marian, I promised your father I would get you back by evensun. I don't want to anger him in case he stops you from attending any more sessions!" _

_Marian cast her eyes away from him, and grunted her agreement. She stared at the trees around her, dreading having to leave her little sanctuary. She knew that by stepping out from this clearing she would be going back to the gossips, her fears and worst still her nightmares. In them she saw him dead lying on the battlefield surrounded by other corpses or it would change to see him with a beautiful girl giggling at his charms and lying in his arms…_

"_Ahhh" Marian shouted in anger and threw her staff against a nearby yew tree. It splintered on impact and sent pieces of wood flying through air. Bitter tears pooled in her eyes as she turned away from Harold, unwilling to let him to see her vulnerability. _

"_I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that" she stated in an abashed voice. Harold gazed at the lovely creature before him, uncertain where this burst had come from. He knew something drove her to keep training. In every blow she delivered he felt the raw anger that lay behind it but he had never had the courage to ask about it. _

"_No matter I'll find another. Are you alright?" Harold asked in a small voice. Marian, with her back still turned, nodded stiffly. Her hands balled tightly as she viciously dug her nails into her skin, trying to stop the tears from falling. She felt as though she was drowning and as hard as she kicked, she couldn't break through to the surface._

"_I need to go again. I'm not good enough," Marian stated miserably, hating her failures._

"_Good enough for what? Your progress has been astonishing, given it's only been a few weeks. Or are you referring to something else?" Harold asked quietly, knowing his words would strike a nerve. He heard her take in a short gasp, and waited for her response._

_Her fiery nature was instantly affronted by his question, wanting to hit back with unstoppable vengeance. However, as though an icy bucket of water had been thrown over it, her temper suddenly died away leaving melancholic despair in its place. A little voice whispered venomously "you've never been good enough at anything. Why __would_ _anyone choose you!?"_

_Marian gulped repeatedly, trying to hush the wicked voice and calm her shaking hands. Her fist enclosed around a worn leather band she wore around her neck. In the middle of it hung a small pendant with a golden arrow streaked through its centre. She screwed her eyes shut whilst clasping the necklace, drawing strength from the little charm. After a few steadying breaths she spun round, her cheeks crimson with an embarrassed blush. She raised her eyes to him in stubborn defiance and he knew he would not get the truth from her tonight. _

_A few weeks passed and summer soon turned into Autumn. Marian sat quietly in her chamber, a small fire blazing in the little hearth. The night had drawn in quickly and now there was a bitter chill in the air. Wrapped up warmly in her blankets she stared into the amber flames, entranced by their movement. _

_· Her fingers played with her necklace absentmindedly, twirling the little charm back and forth. She could picture the handsome 12 year old boy who had presented this gift and she recalled the delight she had felt when it had been tied around her neck. Since then, Marian had never taken it off. Instead she had discreetly covered it when having to wear those ridiculous ball gowns and had tucked it safely away when attending mass. _

_Tears began falling down her ivory cheek as she remembered __that_ _day and how everything had changed in an instant. The hurt and resentment tore at her until she felt numb, as though her entire being had been flayed and now she remained as a hollow shell. _

_She had said many things to him that day and had sworn blind she would never wait for him. She had ripped the betrothal ring from her hand and thrown it across the ground, claiming it meant nothing to her anymore. She longed to see that ring again, but she had searched the meadow for months and never come across it. In the stillness of the night, Marian allowed her heartbreak to burst forth in crippling waves of agony. _

_As much as she hated to admit it, Marian was also desperately afraid. No longer the innocent child, Marian was all too aware of the horrors some of her peers had faced. An incapacitating dread pierced her heart when she thought of what could now await her in married life, for she knew duty demanded that she carry on her ancestors lineage and provide a good match to advance her family. Although her father was exceptionally kind, Marian feared that one day the decision would be taken away from him and her hand forced away to another. Her heart quickened at the thought of her life being signed away to the will of another, forced to be subservient and submissive!_

"_I'd rather be dead!" she hissed at the fire. _

_She thought about her close friend, Ellen, and the fate that had awaited her. Her husband-to-be had had grandchildren older than her and Marian had never forgotten how his withered face had leered at his new wife. She recalled how Ellen had wept and pleaded to be freed from the betrothal but it had been to no avail, the marriage was necessary to secure an important deal for her uncle. Her mind raced through the countless women she'd seen at the castle callously disposed of when old-age had devoured them. Was this the path that now awaited her?!_

_Her heart grieved for the life He had snatched away. They had spent days dreaming of how their marriage would be and the adventures they would get up to. Marian had adored him since they were children, always eager to win his praise and esteem. She had cherished the image of him as her husband, knowing how respectful and passionate he would be. Now all of it lay in ashes and she had never felt so terrified._

_Her vision blurred as the stream of tears intensified. The effort it took to maintain the illusion she was coping was exhausting and Marian felt as though every ounce of her strength had been drained away. Her eyes were heavy with tiredness and yet she dared not sleep, for fear of the dreams that would haunt her. It felt like she was trying to hold onto the reins of a bolting horse but as much as she tried to stop it, it just kept dragging her into paths she did not want to take. _

_A light tapping on her door startled her and afraid that someone had heard, Marian ran to her dressing room to compose herself. _

"_Marian, may I come in?" inquired her father from the hall, anxious to see his beloved daughter. Hurriedly wiping away the remaining tears, Marian desperately sought to hide her grief. _

"_Just a moment, I'm not decent" she called through the door, hoping he would believe her feeble lie. Readjusting her gown and praying her eyes were no longer red, she opened the door to her worried father. _

"_Yes father?" she asked, hoping for a swift end to their discussion. _

"_I...I have some news from London" Edward began, searching his daughter's face to see how she was truly faring. _

"_It seems as though I am needed to appear before the Council, so I may have to leave for a week or so" he explained. He studied his daughter with concern etched across his aging face, he was uncertain whether leaving her alone was the right thing to do. He knew that she hid her true feelings from him because in the dead of night he could often hear her crying. Marian nodded and smiled gently at her father, but her eyes were dull and carried none of the vitality they used to. _

"_I shall see that your best garments are readied and packed for you, father" she said in a flat tone. Edward hesitated in the doorway, wanting to take away her sadness._

"_I trust your training is going well?" he asked, hoping to break the uncomfortable gap between them._

"_Yes thank you, Harold has been teaching me much" Marian replied, weary about her father's sudden interest in the subject. _

"_Good. I've always wanted you to have choices you know," Edward began awkwardly. "Everything is a choice afterall." Marian peered up at her father, her brow puckered in confusion._

"_You can choose to let something destroy you or you can choose to fight against it" he continued pointedly. _

_Tears threatened to spill, as Marian fought to keep her composure together. How could he say that, when He had chosen a barren life for her with no promise of hope and love?! She'd had no choice in the path He had abandoned her on. _

"_I know that sometimes it's easier to give in to despair, my dear" Edward continued, holding her gently by the shoulders. "But, well, when have you ever taken the easy option?!" he smiled, hoping his words might provide some comfort to her. Marian considered his words and gulped back her tears._

"_So everything we do is a choice?" she asked. _

"_Everything!" Edward replied, stroking a stray hair away from her eyes. _

_The trees echoed with the sound of clashing staffs. Marian was leading her tutor on a merry dance, tiring him out before going in for the fatal blow. She set her eyes in a determined stare, every move had to be precise and swift. With one final step, Marian dashed behind Harold and drew her staff across his neck. _

"_Now you're dead!" she exclaimed triumphantly. Harold laughed and held his hands up in surrender, the pupil had bested the tutor. _

"_Excellent!" he praised, astonished at her transformation over night. He had always known that she had natural talent, but until yesterday something had been holding her back like a weight around her neck. It had made her impatient and clumsy, trapping her true skill from coming through. But today he saw a different opponent who was cunning, quick and focused. _

"_Where has this come from?" he asked lightheartedly, intrigued as to what the answer could be. _

"_I have chosen to focus on my path ahead and forget the one I left behind" she replied in a steely voice. She held her shoulders back in a proud, stubborn stance and Harold felt as though he could see her powerful will emanating from her very being. _

"_Can we ever truly choose to forget?" he queried, unsure that it could be so simple. _

"_Everything is choice, everything we do" Marian answered. "My choice is to fight...and to forget." _

_Harold looked at his comrade with curiosity, wishing he could share in her determination to move on from the past. _

"_Well I must say it has greatly enhanced your ability" Harold conceded. Marian nodded, proud of her accomplishment. _

"_Can we move onto swords now?" she pushed, longing to know what it felt like to yield such a weapon. Harold studied his student with hesitancy, a lot more accidents happened in the training ring when swords were involved but he couldn't deny that she could more than handle the challenge. _

"_We'll continue as is for today, and can start with swords on the morrow." _

_Marian's eyes lit up at her tutors promise, everything she had been working on for so long was now coming into fruition. At first she had wanted to learn how to fight as a way to vent her anger (nothing had felt as satisfying as smashing a wooden stick!) and then she had grown a secret desire to prove that she was just as competent as Him. But after her father's words last night she had decided she wanted to learn for herself. It felt like she could breathe again and with that fresh air came clarity. For the first time since He had left, her heart felt lighter. _

"_Can we go again, I want to practice my deflections?" Marian asked. _

_Harold nodded in agreement, and strode back to the edge of the clearing. He picked up his water flask and drank deeply. He knew he would have to tell her soon, as he would be leaving for the Holy Land before Michaelmas. The call had gone out for all able bodied fighters to join the King in defense of the Lord Almighty and he felt it was his duty, as a strong fighter, to answer this summon. His heart sank at the thought of leaving his comfortable life in Nottinghamshire and he would miss his fiery friend. Nonetheless his mind was set, and he felt the least he could do was complete her training. Wiping away droplets from mouth, Harold noticed that Marian no longer wore her little charm. _

"_Your necklace has fallen off! If we retrace our steps we should be able to recover it" Harold stated, searching the ground for any sign of it. _

"_No need" Marian assured him, "I decided to leave it in my chamber this morning. Shall we continue?"._

_Harold stared in astonishment, he couldn't remember a time when she had let that necklace out of her sight. She watched him expectantly, waiting for their new session to begin. _


	10. Chapter 10

Marian walked through the dense forest with a cautious step. She had no idea where she was, her only guide was Robin's trail through the greenwood. The trees loomed over her head, groaning under the weight of leaves they were longing to shed. The world appeared to be deadly silent, except for the odd whisper of wind and the occasional snap of a twig beneath her feet. The light was fading fast and the shadows seemed to be clawing at her feet. Inwardly she cursed herself for being so impulsive, without any light she had no hope of finding her way back to a familiar path.

As the trail took her down further into a wooded valley, Marian stopped to catch her breath. Normally she would be running through the forest in her Nightwatchmen's outfit in an area that was well-known to her, not this eerily unfamiliar track in a heavy, cumbersome riding gown. As she readied herself to move forward, Marian gingerly placed a hand on a nearby tree for support and was surprised by the jagged feel beneath her fingers. Upon examination, she saw that the bark had been ripped away by someone furiously stabbing the tree. Running a finger over the damage, Marian felt a droplet of sap ooze onto her skin. From this she guessed the assault must have happened only a short while ago and the assailant would be not far from where she stood. Slowly, she began to move forward, scanning the treeline for any signs of movement.

As she descended lower, the setting sun's light struggled to reach the lower parts of the valley. The outlaw's trail soon became difficult to make out and Marian began to wonder if she was even following it all. As she looked up behind her, the hillside seemed to become one giant, ominous shadow which Marian knew she could not navigate through. Feeling as though there was little option open to her, Marian ploughed on through the undergrowth, secretly hoping she would soon find the man she had been searching for.

As she neared the valley's gulley, Marian began to make out the faint sound of rushing water. Unsure what stream this could be, she followed the noise into a small, grassy clearing that lined the river bank. Looking up Marian could see a blueish tint starting to spread into the golden colours of the sunset and she knew it wouldn't be long before night set in. Kneeling down on the damp grass Marian leaned forward and dipped her fingers into the cool river, mindlessly twirling them in water as she thought over what her next steps should be.

_Well this was a foolish idea! _Marian admonished herself. _I suppose if I follow river it may come onto a path I know, though that could take miles. Or I suppose I could try and make my way back up the hill, they were all making such a racket that I found them the first time so perhaps I could try that a second time..._

Marian nervously chewed her thumb, unhappy with both options. An owl screeched overhead, interrupting her thoughts and making her heart jump slightly. She couldn't just stay there any longer! Making her decision to follow the stream, Marian stood up and turned to face down river.

A small gasp escaped her lips as she turned and saw him standing a small distance away, arms folded as he watched her play with the water. Somehow he had managed to just appear, without making any sound at all. Marian struggled to stop her mouth from falling open in awe as her eyes widened with shock.

_How does he do that?! _she wondered to herself, half amazed and half annoyed at his skill.


	11. Chapter 11

She straightened up to face him, her eyes straining slightly in the dim light to make out his features. She wasn't sure if it was the poor light playing tricks, but she was sure Robin's face seemed to be stuck in a stony glare. He appeared like a statue, silhouetted against the gloomy light, not moving a single muscle. A nervous flutter coursed through Marian's body. Suddenly she felt completely unwelcome in Sherwood, like an unwanted intruder disturbing the peace. Unwilling to break first, she continued to stare back at the outlaw with confused eyes, uncertain about what was to come.

Robin's mind was racing. He had spotted Marian as she walked down through the trees and had followed her to the river's edge. He would never admit it, but part of him did this to ensure nothing happened to her and other part was just drawn to her. Like a moth to flame. As she had knelt by the river, Robin had been struck by the simple beauty of the scene. The gentle, loving girl he had left for war seemed to reappear by the river as she sat alone, making large sweeping patterns in the water with her delicate fingers. Transfixed, Robin felt unable to move for fear of disturbing the graceful sight before him and continued to watch as she stared across the river with a slight frown. He smiled when the owl screeched overhead, amused by the little shockwave that seemed to run through her body. It was a good job she didn't have to listen to John's snoring, if a little owl made her jump so much!

However as she turned to face him, the hurt and jealousy of before flooded over him again. As he looked into the eyes of woman he longed for, a seething rage settled in his heart. Unwilling to show her the true reasons for his anger (for it would involve admitting his most guarded feelings) he stood before Marian with an icy look of indifference that would have scared away anyone else.

Marian shifted awkwardly on her feet, unsure of where to go but resolute in her decision that she wouldn't make the first move. A silent standoff ensued, with neither party willing to relent first. As Robin's accusing glare grew, Marian's quick temper was soon to rise, frustrated by the situation. She had always struggled with controlling angry outbursts. As her irritation mounted her temper grew exponentially, until she too was fuming.

Fed up by the continued silence, Marian found herself rolling her eyes and looking past the man she had followed. She snorted with impatience and began to stride forward along the river bank, marching straight past his still form.

"I don't think you want to go that way" his hard, mocking voice rang out through clearing. Angered by his cocky tone, Marian spun round, ready to do battle.

"Where I go or what I do is no concern to you" she replied with a steely voice, determined he wouldn't get a rise from her.

"Fine. Good luck then" Robin replied, shrugging his shoulders with an arrogant smile that concealed the jealous rage he felt. Frustrated by his demeanor, Marian swung round and carried on walking down the river bank.

"Wait! You really don't want to go that way!" his voice echoed round the trees. Marian, feeling too stubborn to turn back, ploughed on ahead despite the outlaw's warning. Although the night had set in, thankfully a slither of moonlight lit up the small river bank which Marian now followed. After a few minutes of furious walking, Marian slowed slightly, looking around her for any familiar sights. The forest was now just a black mass that surrounded her and she knew her only option was to keep to the river.

After a few more minutes, Marian noticed the trees encroaching into the small clearing and growing closer to the river bank. The moonlight started to become patchy, as the tree's canopy spread out to block the sky. Soon she found herself stumbling over large rocks and branches that lay on the ground, hidden in the dark. A couple of times she had thrown out her arms blindly, in the hope that she could grasp a tree for support. Her hearing became more attuned to her surroundings as she listened the increasing gush of water. She was sure that the river had become a lot wider and a lot deeper than what it was when she had first set off.

Without warning Marian stood on loose rock and slipped forward, towards the river. As she felt herself lurch over the edge, a strong hand grasped her wrist and pulled her sharply back onto the ground. Both stood in stunned silence, each taken aback by the close proximity they found themselves to the other.

For the briefest moment she revelled in his touch. His calloused hand holding hers so tenderly, that she marvelled how someone so strong could be so gentle. His thumb unconsciously stroked the inside of her wrist in small circular motions that felt comforting to both of them. His other arm encircled her waist holding her firmly, making sure that she was no longer in danger of falling into the icy water. Each looked at the other in stunned silence as their breathing hitched and quickened. The dappled moonlight illuminated their faces in a faint, silvery glow as they stared intensely trying to determine what the other was thinking.

The urge to kiss him was overpowering. Marian's heart began to beat so furiously, she was sure that he could hear it. Her entire being craved his touch, she felt as though she was drowning in her own yearning for this man. Her heart and mind battled ferociously as both sought to win control of her body. As she fought the urge to lean in, she kept repeating to herself the same message. _Don't let him back into your heart, he __will_ _leave you. Do you really want to feel that pain again?_

Moments felt like an age as they stood frozen by the river bank. As the seconds passed by, both remembered that they were angry with the other and slowly the atmosphere transformed into a tense standoff. Marian shifted awkwardly in his grip, and regretfully, Robin released her from his arms. They looked at each other with guarded suspicion, readying for the oncoming battle of wits.


	12. Chapter 12

So Marian...it would appear that I was right" Robin began with an arrogant smile, designed to infuriate the woman before him. As expected, Marian huffed in indignation and glowered at him with a deadly stare. Although the jealous rage still ate away at him, Robin couldn't help but feel a thrill run through him when her face puckered in annoyance. He hadn't been lying in Nottingham's dungeon, he really did love it when she looked at him like that.

"What do you want Locksley?" Marian demanded. Her annoyance inflamed by the embarrassment of his rescue.

Robin snorted at her waspish tone, his anger-filled heart gaining grim satisfaction from hearing her wild temper. His reason told him to make her laugh so that she would enjoy spending time with him again. However his impulsive rage was too strong to overcome. Bitterness and longing swelled uncontrollably, clouding his judgement, and soon he wanted to inflict as much hurt as possible.

"Given I've just saved you, a little gratitude wouldn't go amiss" Robin shot back. "What were you thinking, coming here in the dark?!"

"As I said before, it's no concern of yours" Marian replied haughtily. Her original reason for wanting to find him now completely forgotten.

"So you just make a habit of roaming around the forest, by yourself, in the dark?" Robin pressed, convinced that she was hiding something from him.

"What if I do?" Marian replied, unwilling to give him the real answer. They continued to stare daggers at each other, neither willing to back down.

"Well I suppose I had better get you back to your long-lost _friend_" Robin sniped, emphasising the word with a bitter look.

"What is that supposed to mean?!" Marian demanded, confused at where his anger had come from and infuriated by his insinuation. In her mind he was acting completely irrationally and his words simply deepened the gulf between them. Robin shrugged his shoulders and stood in silence. Mistaking his actions for indifference to her, Marian admonished herself for wanting to forgive the outlaw only moments before.

"I wouldn't want to keep you from someone who you clearly means a lot to you" Robin answered flatly, his face stony and unreadable.

"Grow up," she answered.

Robin's anger swirled uncontrollably within him, but his pride would never allow her to see his true feelings or the pain that had caused his latest outburst. Likewise, Marian's nature refused to show Robin her innermost feelings and how deeply his latest insinuations hurt her. Their equally matched stubbornness prevented any possibility of reconciliation. Robin snorted in derision and started to move away from the dark clearing back towards the camp. Marian, already infuriated by his tone, became enraged.

"Don't you dare turn your back on me Robin of Locksley!" Marian fumed, and marched towards him. He turned to see her eyes flashing with anger in the moonlight.

"Now Marian, weren't you taught that it is improper to leave a guest unattended. I'm sure your presence is sorely missed" Robin stated in the cocky, self-assured tone that boiled Marian's blood.

"Just because you fail to understand proper behaviour, don't assume that we all share that flaw" Marian shot back.

"Flaw?" Robin asked in mocking tone "I believe it adds to my natural charm. I seem to remember you once found it very appealing". The jibe stung Marian and like a bull to a red flag she responded.

"Perhaps when I was young and found childish antics amusing. I have grown up since then, something you seem to be incapable of."

Robin's grin faded slightly, as her words had the desired effect on him. Unwilling to betray how he truly felt, Robin renewed his cocky smile with fresh enthusiasm.

"You say that as though it is a bad thing. Why must to you take everything so seriously?!"

Marian bulked at his response. How could she look on the world any differently, when each day brought new sorrow and fear? She had pushed away all those who were once close to her to protect them from being pawns in Gisborne's manipulations but it had left her so isolated and alone that she no longer knew how to feel lighthearted. She had lost so much and was terrified of what else could be ripped from her that she felt she no other choice but to look upon this new world with the solemnity it demanded. She felt like a pebble drowning in the ocean, being violently tossed around from wave to wave and gradually worn down beyond moment of jovial fun could cause the suffering of those she held dearest and she knew that she could not bear the guilt that this would cause. His words cut deeply and she wanted to deliver just as much of a sting.

"Forgive me for being careful, but so far I haven't lost my father's lands, dragged my friends into further poverty or been the cause of mass retribution for my people".

"That is not fair" Robin snarled at her.

"Nothing in this world is fair. Not anymore" Marian countered.

"Tell me, how did he gain the pleasure of your company and how exactly did you reciprocate his obvious attentions?" he shouted accusingly.

"Well, if you had been around, you would know. Seeing as you weren't, I'll just leave you guessing" she quipped. Robin felt a surge of venomous envy, resulting in his words becoming even more unreasonable and harsh.

"I'm just curious as to the reason why you've had to hide your feelings for such a man all this time?" Robin shot at her.

"I don't have to explain _anything_ to you" Marian hissed back, her anger rising like a tiger readying to pounce.

"Perhaps not, but I wonder how your husband-to-be will take this little reunion?"

Further fury swelled in his chest, as he thought about her betrothal and the villain she had promised to shook his head angrily and looked at Marian with harsh eyes. His rage still coursed through him like greek fire, wanting to lash out and burn everything around him.

"You should be glad that I knew him. He taught me how to fight and he made me strong when others were trying to hurt me. He protected me!" she stated vehemently, livid with Robin's assertions.

As she spoke she stepped closer to the outlaw, so that their faces were now only a few inches apart. Both were breathing heavily in anger and cast livid eyes on each other. Despite their rage, neither could deny the sparks they felt. The air was thick with tension and unspoken feeling. For the second time that night their passion for each other began to rise to the surface.

They continued to stare hard at each other, anger flashing in both their eyes. It felt like spell had been cast as the forest fell silent around them. For a moment time itself slowed, emphasising the rise and fall of their chests as they drew in angry breaths.

Without thinking Marian's gaze dropped slightly to his lips. Half his face was hidden in shadow, but the other was illuminated brightly in the silvery light. Desire welled up in her again, it had been so long since she last felt his kiss. Her passion could not be abated and she struggled to stop her mind from picturing his touch. Her gaze flitted between his eyes and his mouth, and her expression betrayed the longing she felt. Her stubbornness sprang into action on seeing the danger - no she would not give in to that man!


	13. Chapter 13

Robin stood with bated breath, seeing the dramatic change in her demeanor. He noticed how her eyes no longer flashed in anger, rather they appeared to be a little bit confused. He felt his own rage suddenly evaporate as he stared at the girl he'd loved since he was a small boy. The night air seemed to cool around them. The rushing water appeared to quieten as though it too were waiting to see how this scene would unfold. Silence filled the trees around them and neither saw anything but the one they loved.

Struggling to gain control of her thoughts, Marian averted her gaze to the dark forest in front of her, hoping to distract her mind away from the outlaw's handsome face. She had worked tirelessly at controlling her emotions for five years, expertly honed her body to never betray a single thought that crossed her mind. All this seemed to unravel whenever she was in his presence.

Robin continued to watch the beautiful woman before him. He saw the awkward stare she fixed upon the trees over his right shoulder and noticed her posture shifting uncomfortably as she continued to avoid his eyes. Bewildered, Robin stood transfixed, desperately trying to work out what could have brought about this sudden change.

Marian breathed out a frustrated sigh and closed her eyes. She felt annoyed at herself for acting like those silly, giggly girls that always lost all sense whenever he was nearby. She berated her heart for being so weak and repeatedly admonished at herself for feeling this way. But her heart seemed to grow in courage and strength with every minute she spent in his presence. Soon the little voice in her head begging to reach out to the outlaw became a deafening scream, until her mind's eye was filled with memories of how being held in his arms had felt. Stubborn to the end, Marian shook her head violently trying to dispel her continuing fantasy.

With his temper in check, Robin now studied Marian with a lover's concern. Clearly something was wrong and he suspected he would be the root cause of it, though he never considered that her desire for him was to blame. Feeling ashamed of his latest outburst Robin scratched the stubble over his chin, unsure of what action to take. He desperately wanted to know what was between Marian and the crusader, but he couldn't think of a way to pursue the subject that didn't lead to him becoming angry again. His jealous rage still simmered on beneath the surface and he knew it wouldn't take much provoking before it consumed him again.

After a few steadying breaths Marian was ready to do battle. She stared at Robin through guarded eyes, keeping a tight check on her wandering thoughts and hoping that she had the strength to stay away.

"We should get back, your men will be wondering where you are" Marian stated matter-of-factly, not wanting to get drawn into another argument with the outlaw.

"They'll be fine" Robin replied, not wanting to leave her company just yet. Another awkward silence descended as they both searched for something else to say. Marian began to mindlessly play with hem of her riding gown as the seconds ticked by.

"So what's his story then?" Robin suddenly asked, unable to contain his jealousy. Marian arched her eyebrows in indignation, not wanting to divulge the inner-turmoil Harold had helped her overcome.

"He was a good fighter who went to the Holy Land because he felt he had a duty to his King. Sound familiar?" Marian answered.

"What was he before then?" Robin pressed, unsatisfied with her vague response.

"He trained me to fight" Marian stated simply, desperately wanting the conversation to end. She would not risk revealing the devastation she had felt upon his departure and how her training had been the only thing that distracted her from the pain.

"Is that all?" Robin enquired, dreading the answer.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Marian questioned, exasperated with his suspicion.

"Why did he train you to fight when I had already taught you how to shoot?" Robin asked sulkily, envious of another usurping his role.

"Because I needed to be able to fend for myself. You wouldn't understand…" Marian tailed off, unwilling to admit anything further. She let out a shakey sigh, nervous at what might come out if she didn't keep her temper in check.

"I needed to be able to defend myself and my father asked Harold to ensure that I could. That's it." Marian clarified, hoping this would end the interrogation.

"I don't think I would greet my trainer in such an intimate way" Robin quipped, feeling the anger starting to swell.

"Is that what this is all about?!" Marian demanded.

"All what is about?" Robin replied cooly, unwilling to show the hurt that had caused his anger.

"You acting like a spoilt fool!" Marian retorted.

"I just was curious as to how you came to be so close to this man, given I have never laid eyes on him before now."

"Same could be asked about the hundreds of girls I've never laid eyes on, but you don't see me acting like a jealous idiot about them" Marian retorted without thinking. Her eyes bulged as she realised what she had said, knowing that it laid bare her deepest feelings and insecurities. Her heart quickened as her mind spiralled in panic. Her mind raced with the same questions: what if he guessed?! What if he knows how I feel?! How do I cover this?! Think, think! Oh God, why did I say that?!

Robin stood in shock from her frank answer. For the first time he felt as though her carefully constructed facade had slipped and she had accidentally given away her true feelings. His breath quickened as he considered the implications behind her words. Could that mean what he thought it did?

"Marian…" Robin whispered gently.

Angry at her revelation, Marian drew her shoulders back and pursed her lips. She had had enough of this interview and now she just wanted to get out of the forest.

"I need to get back, Father will be worried" she stated coldly and turned back towards the camp.

"Wait!" Robin cried, grabbing hold of wrist. He couldn't let her walk away from him, not when he had come so close to seeing her true feelings.

"Let me go" Marian growled, her embarrassment flaring into wild anger. She wrenched her arm free and began walking back towards the forest.

"Marian, wait!" Robin shouted for the second time, "I'm sorry". Marian hurled round and faced the outlaw with a terrifying stare.

"I do not want nor need your apologies, Robin of Locksley. You can think whatever you like but the truth is that Harold was a good friend to me in a time when I needed it. I'm done talking."

Never one to give up, Robin overtook Marian and stopped her in her tracks. Even in the moonlight Robin could see her cheeks were crimson red and although her eyes were pointedly staring at the forest, he pressed on.

"I won't give up" Robin informed her, his determination ringing in every syllable he spoke. With a cold glance, Marian looked outlaw.

"You cannot stop me from leaving the forest" Marian replied haughtily.

"I wouldn't...I'm not talking about that…" Robin stuttered, trying to convey what he meant to say and failing. Marian studied the outlaw warily, afraid of what she would accidently reveal next. It was true that she felt bitter envy when she thought about all those girls who would have been with Robin over the years, but she kept it buried deep down inside and she wasn't ready to admit her feelings to either herself or the man before her.

"You have no right to throw those accusations at me, especially when you don't understand" Marian levelled at him.

"I understand perfectly" Robin countered.

"No you don't" she replied curtly. "Is it so hard to imagine that I might care for Harold in another way, or do really think that little of me?"

Robin remained silent, unsure of her meaning. He had never doubted her, she was Honour personified. However his greatest fear that another could replace him ate away at his heart and bile burned his throat as he considered whether she could have feelings for another.

"Harold was there for me at a time when I needed it...he helped me and he made me stronger. I will always be eternally grateful to him because he made me want to fight again. You don't understand…I…" Marian stumbled in her explanation. It hurt to think of that time, it had been the darkest period of her life and the emotions she had felt at that time still scared her.

"I was ill, Robin. Many thought my days were numbered and I had no wish to prove them wrong. I cannot describe how black I felt my world to be. But Harold changed that, he made me laugh and brought me back."

"So you care for him?" Robin questioned with a tortured voice.

"Yes I care for him, as you care for Djaq. He was a close friend and I loved him as a brother, but he could never replace…" Marian halted, unable to complete her sentence. She blinked away the tears that threatened to spill and felt exposed from her admissions.

"I should go…" she whispered in a quiet voice, unable to look him in the eye. Desperate to comfort her, Robin unconsciously lifted a hand to her face and gently stroked his thumb over her soft cheek. Shocked at this tender action Marian stood rooted to the spot, unable and unwilling to move. Her eyes locked with his in the moonlight and she felt a rush of emotion overwhelm her. They remained that way for what felt like an age.

Her mind raced over their argument and the things he had said. One sulky line about how she had greeted Harold stuck out in the replay - could that have really been the cause of his jealous rage? She considered how Harold had swept her into a friendly embrace and how that may have looked to outsiders. To her it was a moment of sheer joy at finding an dear friend alive, if not unscathed, which had taken her by complete surprise. A rare moment of simple happiness.

She cast her mind back further to when Robin of Locksley returned and their first meeting. She had been scared, livid and hurt when he sauntered into Knighton and in that moment her only thoughts were to protect her father from further suspicion. At the time Marian had thought saving his life, protecting him from the guards arrow and rescuing him from the dungeon had demonstrated her feelings about his return, but as with so many things, she had never actually told him this. Guilt swirled in her stomach as she thought about where his anger might have stemmed from. For the second time that night, Marian thought about the little girl running across meadow, full of concern for boy before her and promising that she would always be there.

"I was...relieved when you returned too, you know." Marian whispered into the night, not looking at her audience. Every word took excruciating effort to get out, as Marian fought her instincts to remain invulnerable and detached. Robin snorted in mild amusement.

"An arrow to the head is a definite sign of relief" he replied, trying to remain lighthearted to disguise the hurt he felt.

"I had to protect my Father, you know that" she answered earnestly. "And...well...you did deserve it" Marian finished, the corners of her mouth turned up in a slight smile.

"I just..I wanted you to know that…" Marian fought on, hating how vulnerable she now felt. "I am...even though we argue...happy you're home" she finished sheepishly, looking down at the ground beneath them as her embarrassment flared once again. Her words, though simple, meant everything to Robin. His heart swelled and his love for this woman consumed him.

Her skin felt smooth and soft beneath his calloused fingers, her delicate features illuminated by the silvery light. A small blush extended across both her cheeks, her eyes blinking furiously as she peered down at the dirt beneath them. Carefully, he placed his hand beneath her chin and moved her head up again, although her eyes remained resolutely on the earth between their feet. With one gentle movement Robin brushed her lower lip with his thumb, and the shock of this caused Marian's eyes to fly upwards and stare straight into his. Their breathing remained heavy. Marian's lips parted slightly as she looked into the green eyes she had loved from a small a child. Temptation flooded her and she found little willingness to fight it. Holding his breath and his heart pounding in his chest, Robin slowly leaned his head forward to meet hers.

Their lips lightly brushed. Excitement, desire and passion ignited in both of them and they were desperate for more. Robin moved to crash his lips against hers, when all of sudden the unmistakable sound of someone falling to the ground broke them apart.

"Ow, these branches are everywhere! Why don't you just jigger off?! Oh Master there you are!" Much puffed as he made his way towards the couple.

"Marian, you're here as well! That is…that is…ah…." Much stammered to a stop, realising the scene he had just interrupted. Robin stared daggers at his friend, wishing with all his might that he could be alone with Marian to pick up where they had left. Unfortunately the spell had broken; along with several branches judging by the way Much was kicking a few out of his way.

"I'll erm, just be going I think. I've got supper…yes supper to start" Much mumbled as he sought for a way to excuse himself again.

Marian felt flustered, she had been so close to giving in. Her cheeks burnt red at being caught and her insides squirmed at the way Much was looking at them both.

"No it's fine Much, I should all be heading back anyway" Marian informed them. She looked at Robin and saw his familiar cocky grin back in place. She rolled her eyes at him, but couldn't stop herself from smirking back.

"C'mon, I guess it's time we welcomed our guest properly and show him how hospitable we outlaws are" Robin stated cheerfully, no longer feeling hatred towards the man back at camp. Marian smiled at Robin's words towards her returned friend.

"Thank you" she whispered gratefully. He answered by giving her a look of pure devotion and everything that needed to be said went unspoken again.


End file.
